I don't believe in ghosts
by Runyoucleverboyoswin
Summary: We all know Clara comes to the graveyard. But what happens next? Will she come with the Doctor, and will he tell her of Oswin and the former Clara? And what happens when others hear of her inability to die... and come searching? My version of what happens next.
1. Graveyard

** This is my first fanfiction!**

**I DO NOT OWN DOCTOR WHO (although I can wish!)**

_Falling… falling… through the night sky. I can see the stars. They're so pretty. He said we could travel, that man on that high up cloud. But who is he? Someone so important… I can't remember a name. The name. Ice cold all around me. Death all around me. Impact. I shatter, thump. The man, leaning over me, 'I just know who…' No. No. No. I'm gone and it's so dark. _

I wake up from my dream with a pounding head. 'Ow,' I rub my head irritably. Rolling onto my side I spot my alarm clock, flashing that irritable time. 10:00. I know I have to get up, but it's so nice…

'CLARA OSWALD! GET DOWN HERE NOW!' the voice of my housemate, Lucy, echoes through the house. From her tone, I'd guess she's about a 6 on the angry-meter. Not bad, considering I'm an hour and a half late getting up. 90 minutes. 5400 seconds. 324000 milliseconds. Did I mention, I'm a genius?

'IF YOU DON'T GET UP THIS INSTANT, I WILL COME UP THERE AND RIP YOUR HAIR OUT!' A 7…

'CLARA OSWIN ODIE OSWALD!' Ah, the middle names. That signals an 8.

I jump out of bed quickly, not wanting to boost her up to a 9. That's when Lucy turns a peculiar colour. 10's exploding. I haven't yet reached 11, and I'm sure it won't be pretty. Murder will probably somehow be involved. 'I'm coming!' I yell back. I change out of my nightclothes into into a summery black dress with red polka dots. I look at myself in a full length mirror, hands on hips, and shrug. 'It'll do,' I murmur, and brush my hair thoroughly. My chestnut hair is naturally pretty straight, but I straighten it anyway, leaving a slight curl at the ends. It hangs in a silky curtain over my shoulders, and I secure a thin gold bangle to my wrist.

'Ready!' I call cheerily, bounding down the stairs.

'You should have been ready an hour and a half ago!' Lucy complains, but there's a teasing glint in her eyes. My speedy preparation had conciliated somewhat for my late wake up. She is still grumpy though, and I don't want to provoke her further. 'I can't believe you're dragging me off to some bloody graveyard at ten in the morning. And I can't believe you're that dressed up for a visit to a bloody graveyard either!' She gestures to my outfit.

'Grandmother always did appreciate me getting dressed up nice to see her. I don't see why that should change now she's dead. I'm still going to see her.'

'Her grave!' Lucy exclaims exasperatedly, but falters when she spots the pained expression on my face. My Grandmother The only family I have ever known. My mother died bearing me, my father a year after. I have no siblings that I know of. 'So?' I ask quietly, raising my eyebrow dangerously. Lucy steps back, I know I'm terrifying when I'm angry. 'Nothing,' she squeaks timidly.

'Good,' I say, cocking my head, suddenly cheerful again. I grab a bagel and run quickly out of the door. I dart down the street, looking back to see Lucy struggling along in her sweater and jeans, army boots practical and suited for the task; running. She's still slow, and I easily beat her to the graveyard gate, even with my flimsy ballet pumps on.

'How… do… you… run… so… bloody… fast!?' Lucy panted, bending over and placing her hands on her knees.

'I'm just good.' I smile, putting a hand on my hip.

'You're… bloody… mad!... That's… what you are,' she replied mutinously, glaring at me as she caught her breath.

'What have I done?' I ask, affronted.

'You run without warning about a mile, and then ask _what you've done_?' Lucy growled.

I paused, thinking for a second. 'Yeah. I suppose I do.'

'You're impossible.' Lucy glowered, before stalking past me, through the graveyard gates.

'What's wrong with impossible?' I whisper to myself, before following.

I look at my grandmother's new marble grave and sigh. She had a good life, and died at a ripe old age. I wish she hadn't gone though. She has let me alone, with no family or friends, save Lucy. My life is so plain, and ordinary. It is tiring. I pluck a fresh white flower from the overgrown grass below me and place it on my grandmother's resting place. 'Rest well, grandmother.' I say sadly, head bowed and walk away to the older part of the graveyard. I leave the shiny, modern grave and go to the ancient, moss-covered lumps of old stone. I pause at a particular grave, drawn to it. I spot a rose engraved in the stone at the top, but don't dare to brush away the weed covering the name. A voice in my head says _not now,_ and besides, I do not like to touch the graves.

Lucy follows me anxiously, hopping over loose stones. 'Let's go, it's creepy here. They say it's haunted.'

I turn back to her and grin cheekily. 'Nah. I don't believe in ghosts.'


	2. Meeting

With a sigh Lucy turns away, grabbing my hand, and drags me out of the graveyard. I call out 'See you soon Grandmother!' and start walking by Lucy's side. She doesn't drop my hand, and I smile at her, 'Wanting to get up close and personal, are we?' I ask, laughing. She notices the tight grip she still has on my arm and drops it like it's burning her.

'Don't worry, I won't tell your girlfriend.' I assure her, and she growls at me, eyes blazing, 'You'd better not.'

'That reminds me. How is Catherine?'

'You saw her yesterday!'

'A lot can happen in a day.'

'Like murder,' Lucy threatens.

'Exactly,' I sing, pretending to be oblivious to the meaning behind her words. My housemate sighs, and gives up, muttering. 'She's fine.'

'Still as pretty as me?' I flirt, enjoying annoying her.

'No,' she says without thinking.

'Ooo, you charmer,' I nudge her arm.

'She's miles nicer than you.'

I put a hand up to me chest, miming being shot. 'I'm hurt.' I declare, 'I thought we were friends.' I sniff overdramatically.

'We are, but for how much longer I don't know.'

'Oh, you don't mean that.' I scoff.

'I do, you are the most self-obsessed, selfish, flirty-'

I interrupt, more serious now. 'I'm offended by your words.'

'I'm sorry. You're sweet, honestly.' Lucy apologises. My temper flares up again. 'That's what everyone thinks. Sweet little innocent Clara, well I'll tell you this. I'm not sweet or innocent or little!'

'Of course you're not,' Lucy sighs. 'No one who hears you who would never dare to think you're innocent, no one who hears you would assume you're sweet.'

'And the small thing?' I challenge.

'Well, we can't help our height.' She offers.

'I could be anyone I wanted to be, and if that means growing taller so be it!'

Suddenly there's a coughing behind us, and I whip around to see a gangly man with the most ridiculous bow tie I have ever seen standing close behind us. 'How are you going to make yourself taller?'

'God, your chin's huge!' I laugh. Instead of being insulted, like I expected he simply smiles, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. 'You didn't answer my question.' He insists.

Me and Lucy look at each other. Lucy points at me, and says, in chorus with myself, 'Genius.'

'It is you! Clara!' the man declares, and throws his arms around me, hugging me close to his chest.

'Have you two met?' Lucy asks worriedly.

'In a way,' the man shrugs, and he is strangely familiar, though I can't recall anything about him, not even a name.

'Well, I'll be off,' Lucy mumbles, equally confused about his vague answer. She hurries away, glancing over her should anxiously. The man waits until she has turned the corner, then turns back to me.

'How do you know me?' I demand, and the man bites his lips, 'Next question.'

'Name?' I ask, and he replies easily. 'The Doctor.'

'Doctor who?'

Suddenly he pushes away from me, and stumbles back, as if he's been hit. 'I've just realised how bad I am for you. Both times, gone…'

'What do you mean, bad for me?' I query curiously.

'I'm dangerous,' he admits, instinctively going to straighten his bow tie.

'What's wrong with dangerous?' I smirk, and cock my hip.

'Oh Clara. Everything,' the Doctor says sadly. Then he turns and walks away.

'Hey!' I call and follow after him. 'You haven't answered my first question!'

He doesn't turn around, and so I turn away and retrace my steps. When I turn the corner, pause and hide, like I expected, he also stops. I crouch behind a dustbin, as he doubles back around the corner, and scans the seemingly empty pavement. He sighs, turns around, mumbles 'At least she's still alive,' and carries on walking the ways he was before. I follow him stealthily, keeping to the shadows. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's sneaking. I continue following his footsteps, until he ducks into a dark alleyway. I do the same, and come across an old blue police telephone box, glowing with an eerie light. I stumble forward, the Doctor nowhere in sight. I decide he must be inside the police box. Putting a shaky hand out, I rap on the door, and it swings open. The Doctor head pops out, his curious expression turning to horror, with a little relief mixed in, as he spots me waiting impatiently.

'Hello, I'm Clara Oswald. And how the hell did you know who I am?'


	3. Kiss

**Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who (which I don't) Mickey would have fallen into** t**he** **Nestene Consciousness that first episode. And he didn't.**

** DarkestAngel11: Thank you! I believe in strong ending lines, they're my favourite lines to write! And as you requested- here is the next chapter!**

'How did you get here?' the Doctor asks, running a hand through his hair, avoiding my question.

'I followed you.' I say, rolling my eyes. I ignore the little, 'Both times,' he's murmuring to himself. The answer was kind of obvious, so I complain, 'God, you're thick!'

'I'm a genius too!' he defends. I smirk, 'I'll believe that when I see it. Now answer my last question!'

He puts another hand up to his head, I reach up and tap it lightly. 'That's probably the fifth or sixth sign of madness, or something.' Then I realised how casually I had just touched him.

Ooo, that boyish grin, those ancient eyes, that huge chin… acting completely on instinct I reach out and grab that chin, and bring his mouth to mine. He flails his arms awkwardly, but his mouth tells a different story, reacting strongly to the kiss. That kiss tells me he likes me- a lot. This strikes me as strange, we've only just met! But the instinct to kiss a complete stranger isn't entirely normal either, so it doesn't deter me. We stay like this for a long time, breaking for air occasionally. Well, I do. He doesn't seem to need air, which is odd. When we finally break apart, I bring a finger up to my lips, and touch them wonderingly. 'Why did I kiss you? And why does it feel so _right_ and familiar?' I question him desperately.

He doesn't appear to hear my question, as the blush is receding from his face slowly, and he's running his fingers through his mess of brown hair again and again and again, an infuriating habit. 'Both times.' He's still mumbling to himself.

'First sign of madness,' I remind him, and he finally looks up at me. His eyes are full of joy, sorrow, and a sort of acceptance.

'Now what's in that blue box of yours?' I ask abruptly, his gaze puzzling and scaring me. I push his frozen form from the doorway and step inside. I shake my head, and steps outside. Inside, then outside. And again. I scamper around the outside, and run inside again.

'Oh my god.'

**Sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to get something up here! **

**Review!**


	4. Filthy

**Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who (which I don't) Rose wouldn't have been the first companion, I would! But I'm not. ****L**

**A.N. I am so sorry for not updating! I've been working on my newest fanfiction that has yet to be released, and it sort of slipped my mind. Thank you to all of those people who reminded me!**

**I'm changing the tense and person!**

'It's… it's..' Clara struggled to find the words. The TARDIS pulsed and her lights flickered, she was excited about this girl.

The Doctor smirked, waiting for the words. He opened his mouth, prepared to mouth along.

'It's… FILTHY!' Clara declared. The Doctor snapped his mouth shut and frowned, 'It's what?' he whined.

'When was the last time you cleared up in here?' she demanded, darting to one of the walls and running her finger along it, lifting it up to her face to examine the reddish dust she found. Then she stuck out a tongue and licked it.

'Oh that's disgusting.' the Doctor scrunched up his nose.

'I can see why people used to be put off when _you_ did that. That is- that is- that is _unpleasant_.' Clara agreed, narrowing her eyes.

'Hey, I did used to do that!' The Doctor agreed happily, nodding, before slowing his head movement slightly. 'Hang on… I did used to do that! How did you know?' he demanded, striding up to Clara and brandishing a finger in her face. Clara looked momentarily stunned and then her face relaxed into a neutral expression. 'You've probably done everything at one point or another. Lucky guess,' she shrugged.

'Oh,' the Doctor huffed, the wind knocked out of his sails. 'So, wanna go somewhere?'

Clara examined him closely, staring into his brown eyes which were wide and innocent. 'You usually put up a lot more fuss than this.' She remarked accusingly.

'How did you know that?' the Doctor insisted, his eyes held worry and… curiosity.

'You seem the type.' She laughed and skipped around the console, trailing a dainty finger along it.

'So why me?' she stopped and looked serious.

'No reason,' he said.

'You must have a reason,' she declared. 'No one just picks a random person up and takes them to his blue box.'

'How do you know?' he questioned.

'I know people.' Clara said vaguely, waving off the question. 'So?'

'You just looked like you wanted some fun.' The Doctor shrugged. 'So. All of space and time, everything that ever was and ever will be. Where do you want to start?'

'God, do you say that every time?' she laughed and skipped out of the room.

'Where are you going?' he called out.

'To the kitchen!' she shouted dramatically.

'To make soufflés?' the Doctor asked.

Clara popped her head back into the console room, 'Yeahhh.' She confirmed, shooted him a suspicious look. Then she charged off, laughed.

'Don't get lost!' he bellowed.

'As if I could!' she assured his loudly, and the sound of her pealing giggles faded away.

'Who _are _you, soufflé girl?' the Doctor mumbled to an empty room, trying to decipher her crptic words.


	5. Note: Sorry

Sorry guys, but I'm giving up on this fanfic. I've lost interest. I'm currently working on a fanfic Xover between Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, called Vivian Potter and the Lightening Thief. Again, I'm really sorry,


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